


Jack of All Trades

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Series: Prompt Fics [26]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fake Character Death, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 15:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21478873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: Jack finds himself in a familiar situation with an opportunity for a little payback.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: Prompt Fics [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540795
Comments: 11
Kudos: 46





	Jack of All Trades

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by an anon on tumblr

“If I die, I’m haunting you first.”

“Stop being so dramatic, you told me you were okay with this,” Mac mutters as he ties Jack’s wrist down to the chair.

“That was _before _you brought out the rope and started tying me to this cha-_ay!_-ir!” Jack whines as Mac tightens the rope. 

“We gotta make it look convincing.” 

“Convincing, uh-huh, sure. I’m getting flashbacks over here, man.”

“Another one of your dreams?”

“Nah, bro, ‘member that time, few weeks ago, I was hooked up to the truth serum?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mac muses with a smile. “You gave me like, a million hugs.”

“Well, there was this moment,” Jack clears his throat, looks around the room to make sure they’re alone, lowers his voice so it would not be picked up by the comms, “Where I was _convinced _that you were…uh…well…a-and it wasn’t the drugs, it felt so _real…_”

“I remember that, too. But don’t worry, no surprises this time,” Mac pats Jack’s knees, thighs, shoulders, and finally one playful pat to the top of his fauxhawk. “Now, just close your eyes, pretend like you’re unconscious.”

Once Jack’s eyes are closed, Mac places a giant bow on top of his partner’s head, the cherry on top of their set-up to catch a gang of dangerous criminals. He squints his eyes together as he hears a click followed by a flash that disorients him for a moment, and his eyes flutters before he falls back into his possum state.

“Really, Mac?” Jack mutters through just barely parted lips. He can’t see Mac’s smirk before Mac exits the room, leaving him alone with nothing but an eerie silence interrupted with soft drips from a leaking pipe and the urge to start singing a Salt-N-Peppa song. 

Jack’s internal body clock tells him that almost an hour passes before the door opens. Part of him wishes it’s Mac coming to tell him that the mission’s off, that they can go home now, that Jack can be released and not have to feel like an invisible drug is trying to tease the release repressed emotions out of his bloodstream–well, not necessarily repressed, because he’s proud enough to realize and admit his emotions to his loved ones, but there are just certain…inhibitions that he likes to keep a tight lid on, and that _damn drug _had released them into the air, making him look like a damn fool.

That same part of him worries that he had scared Mac away with the “million hugs,” and that he wouldn’t want to hug Jack ever again.

The other part of him knows that the group of people entering the room are the targets to this set-up, that they’ve taken the bait, and think they’re about to acquire a “valuable asset” in the form of Jack Dalton, all tied up with a literal bow on top for them. 

Little do they know that there’s a full tac team waiting in the other room, and before they can even lay a finger on Jack, they’re taken into custody. 

“Good work, you two. I’ll see you back at the Phoenix,” Matty’s voice buzzes through the comms, but as Mac enters the room to untie Jack, he notices that Jack’s not moving.

“Hey, did you hear that, we’re good to go,” Mac announces to Jack as he begins to untie the rope. 

Jack still doesn’t move.

“Jack,” Mac sharply states, shakes Jack’s shoulder, pats his cheek. “Jack?” 

Worry laces through his spoken words as Jack’s head rolls back, hod body completely limp. 

_“Maaaaaac…”_ a hollow, low voice waves from the other side of the room, behind Mac. Mac is confused, the voice sounds _exactly _like Jack, but his lips aren’t move.

His _dead _lips. 

“Jack?” Mac is hyper aware of his pounding heart in his rib cage, wonders if Jack somehow had a heart attack…or something else. 

_“I tooooooold you…I’d haunt youuuuuu…fiiiiiiiirst…”_

Mac rolls his eyes as he puts his finger to Jack’s neck, feels his pulse, yet is still startled when Jack’s body suddenly moves, his hands popping in the air in front of Mac’s face with a “boo!” escaping his lips.

“Don’t _scare me like that!” _Mac hisses, patting Jack on the chest, before pulling him into a hug. 

“I think we’re even now,” Jack whispers into Mac’s ear, and wishing this moment would last forever. 

“Where did you learn to throw your voice?” Mac asks. 

“One of my covers in the CIA was a ventriloquist.”

Mac tears away from the hug and pushes a laughing Jack.

“You did _not,” _Mac chuckles. 

“Yes I did.” Jack deadpans with his lips unmoving, and a wink in his eye. “Guess you can say I’m a Jack of all trades.” 


End file.
